


make a mistake tonight

by portions_forfox



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-29 15:59:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/portions_forfox/pseuds/portions_forfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>jim is really, really drunk, man. (excuses, excuses!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	make a mistake tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Porn Battle XIV again. set in a cracktastic alternate ending to the season 2 finale, "Casino Night." so. that's my explanation for this.

So Kelly did this thing that was, in retrospect, _one thousand percent_ unfair (and in Jim’s head right now Dwight is going, There’s no such thing as a thousand percent—you can get to a hundred percent but going over a hundred percent makes no physical sense as “per cent” literally means “out of a hundred,” and wow, holy fuck, is it or is it not actually _really fucking depressing_ that even when not there in person, Dwight Schrute is in Jim’s head making corrections on the nature of percentages. Wait—yep, it’s really depressing.)

Anyway—the really unfair thing was that Kelly was in the office with Jim after the—Jesus, he doesn’t want to think about it _he doesn’t want to think about it_ — _incident_ with Pam went down, because she forgot her keys or like, her scarf or her coat or something, and she started talking about forgetting her keys/scarf/coat and so naturally Jim’s tuning her out, and then in the _middle of her pointless-as-usual rambling_ , Kelly Kapoor takes half a breath and says something genuinely profound. With, like, no transition period between Prada-Fall-fashion-scarf-designs to really-important-life-advice. (Only Kelly.)

“Jim,” she says, “I know you’re like, really hung up about Pam. I get it. You are so totally in love with her.”

Jim nods noncommittally, as usual, his hands in his pockets. _Did I leave my wallet at the casino am I too drunk to drive home wait WHAT did she just say?_. “Mm-hm,” he hums. “Wait, what?”

“You’re in love with Pam,” Kelly says, giving him a look like that time he told her he’s never seen _Notting Hill_. “And she doesn’t love you back.” Jim can almost _hear_ the ‘duh’ at the end of that sentence. “Well guess what, Mister. I know the feeling.”

This is starting to get really bizarre. Like, it’s dark in here, and the office is totally empty, and it’s like three AM and he’s really drunk and he just kissed Pam (he just kissed Pam oh GOD) and Kelly’s having a really significant real-life moment with him right now, in this dark, abandoned office. (He is really, really drunk.)

“Kelly,” he says, and he _really, really_ should not have said this—“You look really pretty tonight.” And her grin widened, and her eyes lit up, and she was like, “Oh my God, really?” and he was like, “Yeah,” and she hit his arm and was like, “Oh stop it, Jim.” And he _distinctly remembers_ thinking, This is a very bad idea. And he distinctly remembers actively ignoring that thought.

And that is how he ended up here, sitting off the side of Kelly’s bed still totally clothed while Kelly makes out with Ryan on the opposite side. (He had been waiting in her room creepily when they’d drunkenly stumbled in. “You dumped me, go away!” Kelly had slurred, hanging off Jim’s shoulder so she could lean down to pull off a high heel and throw it at Ryan. Upon seeing her with Jim, Ryan had immediately slurred back, “Kelly I love you, we have to be together,” and Kelly had grabbed onto Jim’s elbow and yelled back, “Shut up, I’m totally gonna have sex with Jim ’cause he’s sad!” and Ryan had yelled back, “No you shut up!” and Kelly was like, “No _you_ shut up!” and they exchanged a couple more of those before the making out began. It was…chemistry, Jim guessed? Was that—what you call that?)

“I think I’m gonna go now,” Jim decides, standing up. “I frankly have no idea how I ended up here.”

Kelly’s mouth makes a suction noise detaching from Ryan’s; she literally has to hold his shoulders back to keep him off her. “Oh, it was because you were depressed over Pam not loving you.”

Jim curls his lips. “Thanks Kelly.”

She smiles sweetly. “You’re welcome.” 

Ryan looks Jim up and down once. “You can stay if you want,” he decides, ever so generous. “You’re probably too drunk to drive home anyway.”

“Nope, that’s okay, actually, I would genuinely rather die violently in a drunk driving accident than stay here and watch…this, so.” He motions to their bodies, which are somehow already…weirdly entangled?

“Well, you don’t have to watch,” Kelly offers as Ryan kisses her neck. So gross. Kind of. Kind of gross. Gross? Is it? Holy fuck. “You can always join in. Ryan and I are like, super bohemian.”

Another suction noise. “Yeah,” Ryan agrees. “Super bohemian. We have like an open relationship and everything.”

“No we don’t, stop saying that.”

“I’m actually gonna…” Jim starts to say, gesturing toward the door. Ryan is already back to kissing Kelly’s neck, and she’s tilted her head back, her eyes rolling closed, her mouth hanging open and her brow furrowed. Her hands are tangled in the hair at the nape of Ryan’s neck, tugging slightly. “…go,” Jim finishes. “This whole thing—no, wait, this whole _night_ has been a lapse of judgment.”

Ryan is working his way down Kelly’s neck, and somehow they’ve gracefully managed to maneuver themselves into a horizontal position— _Seriously, how do they do that so smoothly?_ Jim wonders, and then he remembers it’s because they’d had sex with each other approximately _ten thousand times_ , and half of those times probably occurred, like, right on top of the annex, and then he also remembers that _he should not be impressed by the smoothness with which they switched to a laying position, he should be LEAVING._

Ryan starts tugging at the neck of Kelly’s spaghetti-strap dress, kissing along its hem on the tops of her breasts—the dress is white, and she looks really good in white. Also Ryan’s skin is really white. And that looks good too.

Jim is really, really drunk right now.

“Dude,” Ryan says, his head swerving around—his hair is a mess from Kelly’s hands, and his lips are swollen and wet—“Either you have to join in or you leave, ’cause you just standing there watching is starting to get really creepy.”

Jim blinks once, and then shakes his head firmly. “I am not that guy.”

“Jim,” Kelly says, sitting up a little straighter. “Think of it this way: okay, so maybe you are not that guy. Maybe you are not that guy at all.” She pushes her hair nonchalantly out of her face as Ryan nonchalantly yanks her dress up—white lace panties too, what the fuck—and starts kissing up her stomach. “But on this fateful Friday night, when you are really really drunk, and the girl you love has just totally rejected you, and there are two really really hot cross-racial people who want to have sex with you, and also you are _really, really_ drunk, then…maybe you are that guy.”

Jim flinches, hesitant. “What guy?” he asks.

“The threesome guy.”

Ryan’s teeth are tugging at Kelly’s belly button; her knees have fallen open around him and her hands have raked up his white dress so a strip of skin shows at the bottom of his back. Between her thighs her white lace panties offset her dark skin perfectly and Ryan is about to tuck one of his fingers beneath them. Also: Jim is really, really drunk.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m Threesome Guy tonight.”  



End file.
